


Blueberry Wine

by orphan_account



Category: Vampire Chronicles - Anne Rice
Genre: AU in the sense that Nicki avoids the whole fiery dying thing., Alcohol, Angst, Drabble, Family Issues, Gen, Guilt, Modern Era, Originally Posted on Tumblr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-23
Updated: 2014-06-23
Packaged: 2018-02-05 21:17:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1832596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nicki visits the gravestone of a man who shared his father's name.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blueberry Wine

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on one of my defunct (but still up) tumblr accounts. It's been written for about a year now, but I figured since I was on I might as well post it here. A few small edits have been made, but nothing major.

It took Nicki the better part of an hour to say what he’d come to say.

"It’s your birthday."

That wasn't entirely true. The birthdate on the gravestone read January 17th, and it was August now. But his father’s birthday was in August, and the man buried there shared his father’s name; he supposed it counted.

The churchyard was quiet. No wind, not even the soft crunching of grass under animal feet. Just as well. The statement would’ve earned him a similar response had the man been alive. “But I guess you know that.”

He chewed his lip, feeling ridiculous. He’d never bothered with his father’s birthday when the man was alive. Perhaps it was silly to start now. The idea hadn’t sounded so terrible earlier on, but now that it came to it— well, he’d already brought it up. Besides, he hadn’t come empty-handed.

"I got you something." He reached into his bag and pulled out a large bottle. "I remember how you loved dessert wines, and the woman at the store swore by this." He turned the label toward the gravestone for inspection. "It’s blueberry. Can you imagine?"

It was only when he made to open it that Nicki realized he’d forgotten a corkscrew. After a moment’s debate, he smacked the neck against the edge of the gravestone. It broke jaggedly, but the wine was accessible.

"Sorry." He sat the bottle under the carved name, wiping away a bit of sloshed wine from the stone. He could guess what his father would say, hear the acid of it all too clearly: _careless boy, never prepared for anything._ But he didn’t want to think of that. Not now. It was late in more ways than one. “You won’t have to fight me for it, at least.”

And wasn't that saying something? Quite a few good bottles had been lost that way. One in particular-- a sweet red Nicki’s mother bought as a gift when Nicki was fourteen. His father said something to upset him and he'd stolen the bottle in retaliation, drank it all himself in one night. He thought the man would never forgive him.

But he did. And when Nicki sobered up he forgave his father for the nasty thing he’d said; it was the same as always. They’d forgive one another most anything in time, if only to make room for more fighting.

Nicki laughed a little at that. It was a nice thought. A good place to end. “Well,” he said, hopping to his feet, “much as I’d love to watch you get drunk, I have plans.”

He paused, picking a bit of dirt from his jeans. He should say something. Something nice, something a good son would say. And he wanted to, really. But just then his throat was rather tight, and getting tighter the longer he thought about it. He needed to leave before he embarrassed himself.

Nicki patted the rounded top of the gravestone, then headed back the way he came. “Try to keep it down,” he called over his shoulder. ”You’ll bother your neighbors.”


End file.
